the term reminds me that this body is a home
a home with a blue bicycle on its side
on the lime yellow lawn - patches of rust
and a broken screen door that whines when you open it -
moss and mold, lead paint and live wires exposed
my lights flicker, like my my heart ticks without being told -
cold drafts and rings of stained beer marks on the counter -
an empty fridge, an unkept bed
a broken dish washer, and a sink full
the air is still stale here, she said as she
ashed her cigarette on the floor and smiled